


Hold Me (Under the Mistletoe)

by TurtleBread



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Advent Calendar, Day 14, Dreamserver AdventFic 2020, G2 2020 Ensemble, Holidays, M/M, Mistletoe, Multiple Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleBread/pseuds/TurtleBread
Summary: The holidays are just around the corner, and what better way to celebrate than with a little bit of parasitic cheer? Well, at least the intentions are good.
Relationships: G2 Esports Ensemble/G2 Esports Ensemble
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: DreamServer 2020 Advent Event





	Hold Me (Under the Mistletoe)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello~, it is now Day 14 of the Dreamserver Advent Calendar! Hoping everyone enjoys this little piece of work! <3 
> 
> Truly though, this piece is dedicated towards all the lovely people in the Dreamserver. Without your relentless enthusiasm and unbridled support, COVID season would have been more dreary indeed. Wishing everyone a happy and safe holiday season!

It starts like this:

Martin sighs as Rasmus zooms past him, arms full of Christmas spirit. He eyes the trail of baubles and greenery tumbling after him, disbelief colored in his features as each piece falls from Rasmus’ arms without earning so much as a crack. He’s rudely moved out of the way by Mihael, who is trailing after the younger and picking up each one of the dropped decorations. Martin gains a shrug and a half-empty box passed into his arms for the inconvenience. 

“If you’re just going to stare,” Mihael starts, voice tinged with amusement, “you may as well help him out.” 

Mihael drops the ornament that he just picked up - a silver bell, designed to mimic the one from that train movie that Marcin recently discovered - into the box before picking up what looks to be a bundle of leaves tied together with a red ribbon. A glint of his glasses is all the warning Martin gets before the plant is waving ominously over his head. 

  
“Uhhhh.” All in all, this is shaping out to be a 2 out of 10 experience by Martin’s standards. “What is that, by the way?” 

“Don’t you know what to do under a mistletoe?” It’s unfair, Martin thinks, how entertained Mihael sounds at his confusion. That entertainment is probably why Mihael decides to make him more confused by pressing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

Marcin, who always manages to interrupt at the perfect time, pads into the hallway as Mihael is pulling away. In one exaggerated motion, he stumbles into the wall and slides dramatically to the floor in a fit of garbled screaming. “What the fuck! Wunder got Miky’s first holiday kiss??? Ahhhhhh life is so unfair. What the fuck?” 

Martin’s confusion gives way to fond annoyance. Mihael laughs and drops the hand holding the mistletoe behind his back. He and Martin share one more look as Marcin dissolves into a lump of faux sobs, and Mihael whacks him with the bundle as he pushes past him to go hang the mistletoe somewhere appropriate. “You snooze, you lose. Help Martin help Rasmus, yeah?” 

“This is not even fair. I wanted to be the first kiss this season,” Marcin sniffles as he obediently rises, peering sadly into the box. Martin snorts and starts to move down the hallway, pausing only to make sure that Marcin is lagging behind him. The trinkets jingle as he walks, filling the narrow space with a sound that promises holiday cheer. 

All the commotion manages to draw Luka out of his room, just in time for him to witness Martin and Rasmus crash into each other as Rasmus re-enters the hallway. The ornaments fly in spectacular arcs of all directions, some descending harmlessly to the floor while others are caught with Marcin’s and Martin’s quick reflexes as Rasmus falls backward, box in hand. In his sleep-addled state, Luka lets a particularly resilient ornament bonk him on the head before fumbling to catch it. 

Rasmus looks sheepish as he raises the rescued box, laughing awkwardly as Luka shoots him a  _ look _ . “Huh. And here I thought Jankos was wearing the cat collar again.” 

There is blessed silence for 2 seconds as they all share looks between each other and the mess. And then Mihael walks in, still holding that blasted plant, and everything turns to chaos once more. 

The Great Holiday Kissing War, as so dubbed by Rasmus, sees the widespread placement of mistletoe in every crevice and corner of the gaming house. Fabian, who refused to take part in any of this nonsense after Marcin had made a kissy face in his direction, is unanimously elected to be the referee. “You all are so ridiculous,” he sighs as he joins the team at the dining table so that they can explain the rules to him. “And you, too, Martin?” 

Martin shrugs, looking awfully smug with Rasmus curled up in his lap, head resting against his shoulder. With Fabian in the house, they were one seat short, anyways. “If you can’t beat them, join them.” 

Fabian throws his arms in the air, done with everything. “Luka? Team Captain, please tell me why this is happening.” 

“Oh, you’re not getting anything out of him.” Despite being hyper focused on his phone, Mihael is still the most helpful person in the room. “He and Marcin are the ones that came up with the rules.” 

One day, Fabian will have the strength to face Carlos and quit his job. But that day is not today. He gives up. “OK. OK, fine. Tell me the rules, just don’t let Marcin within five feet of me.” 

He doesn’t like the way Luka’s face lights up, but entertains him by leaning forward when motioned to do so. The rest of the table’s mirrored actions send a shiver down his spine, but it’s too late for Fabian to back out now. Luka draws them closer still, then slides a few sheets into the center of the table. “So, here is the plan…”

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ 

  
  


**Rule No. 1: You Must Kiss the First Person Who Arrives Under the Mistletoe**

“Oh, Mikyyyyyy!” Marcin crows, voice full of glee. “Can you come help me here? I’m in the living room!”    
  


It’s the perfect set-up. A mistletoe hangs ominously over the entryway to the living room, Marcin poised to strike right underneath it. He giggles as he hears footsteps coming down the hall, turning into the room to hide behind the wall lest his plan be given away. Mihael’s steps are heavier than he remembers, but he can’t let this chance get away just because of a bit of uncertainty. Determined, he swings around the corner just as the footsteps stop, colliding face-first with a warm chest. 

“Ahhh… haha, did not see you there, Martin.” There is only one person in this house taller than Marcin, though he certainly did not expect Martin to come at his call for help. “Sorry, sorry! I will just get out of your way now!” 

“Didn’t you need help with something?” And Marcin, in a moment of shortsightedness, glances up at the looming mistletoe in response. His face flushes as Martin’s gaze follows his, eyes lighting up in realization. Martin’s voice, as usual, is too cocky for his own good. “Ahh, I see. Well, let me help you with that then.”

  
  
  


Mihael finds them some time later, finally having decided to heed Marcin’s request for assistance, making out in the middle of the damn hallway. Martin has the jungler pushed against the wall, one hand around his waist and the other, stroking the heated skin of Marcin’s cheek. He coughs loudly, preparing his judgemental stare for when they break apart. 

Eventually, Marcin notices that he and Martin aren’t alone in the hall anymore. He pushes frantically at Martin’s chest, relieved as the other backs away without resistance. Marcin’s face somehow manages to turn even more red than before, voice pitched high as he greets the support. “Hi, Miky! What are you doing here in the middle of the hallway?” 

“What does it look like he’s doing?” Martin doesn’t even try to hide his laughter, as uninterested as he is in helping Marcin out. “You called for him earlier, right? If he’s here now, I guess you don’t need my help anymore.” 

Mihael and Martin take turns teasing Marcin about his rudolf impression for the rest of the day, at least up until Marcin locks himself in his room to spend time on stream. That night though, they both crawl into Marcin’s bed to make it up to him with some anime binging and warm cuddles. 

**Rule No. 2: Each Mistletoe Can Only Be Moved Once Per Day**

Marcin runs into Luka right outside the gaming room, hands patting suspiciously at his pockets every few seconds and body angled towards the door. His face is half peeping behind the door frame, openly observing whatever is happening within. He jumps when Marcin taps his shoulder, though, clearly not aware of his surroundings. 

“What the hell, man!” Luka follows up his startled jump with a sharp whisper, rubbing at his chest where his heart beats too fast from the scare. “You are always so loud, how can you be so quiet now?” 

Marcin, unfortunately, doesn’t get the hint. “Well,” he replies, practically yelling, “if you weren’t so focused on being a sneaky bast-”

Luka’s hand stops Marcin from saying anything further, and he uses his other to press a finger to his own lips. He doesn’t withdraw even when Marcin licks him, grimacing and manifesting a bundle of mistletoe from his pocket. He waits for Marcin’s eyes to fill with understanding before dropping his hand, turning back to peek into the room once more. 

“What are you up to? Who’s in there?” A curious Marcin is always dangerous, but at least he’s whispering now. Luka sighs and gestures vaguely in the direction of the door, moving back to allow Marcin to peek in. 

“I’m waiting for them to queue up. Martin asked if he could steal my seat earlier, so they should be going on their little duo-queue date soon.” 

The timing is perfect. The queue pops right as Luka finishes his sentence, and he shares a look with Marcin before they both storm into the office, mistletoe and all. Luka waves the bundle triumphantly over the pair, Marcin dancing enthusiastically in the background. “Oh ho ho, look what we have here! A lovely couple with a mistletoe hanging high.” 

In spite of the intrusion, Martin and Rasmus are barely phased. They exchange a quick, sweet kiss under the plant and lock in their characters peacefully, conversing as if Marcin and Luka had never entered in the first place. Marcin wails, disappointed, as Luka throws the mistletoe up in frustration and berates the pair. “You two are impossible. Not even any wild action, I mean, come on.” 

Martin scoffs as he W’s and attaches his Yuumi to Rasmus’ Vayne. He throws an arm around Rasmus’ shoulders, fully content to stay attached the entire game, before turning to look at the mess of a duo behind them. “I shouldn’t have wasted time wondering if you two could be any louder.” 

**Rule No. 3: There Are No ‘Accidents,’ All Kisses Under the Mistletoe Will Count**

It’s Rasmus’ own fault, really. He’s clumsy enough as is, despite his grace in the midlane, and he tends to trip over his own two feet. He should have known that leaving extensive Christmas decorations strewn about the floor could only lead to disaster. 

It’s especially unfortunate for Mihael, who ends up being the cushion for Rasmus’ uncoordinated ways. Rasmus doesn’t know how the stocking got into the kitchen, but he knows it definitely doesn’t belong there as he slips on it and lands heavily onto Mihael who is wandering into the kitchen to get water. 

He hears a soft ‘ _ oof _ ’ and the clattering sound of plastic hitting linoleum as Mihael drops the bottle on impact, and he’s immediately thankful that Mihael’s glass mug is in the sink instead of in his hands. 

“I got you,” Mihael mumbles, hands gripping gently at his waist. 

And because there always has to be an audience for his clumsiness, he hears Luka’s unnecessarily loud snickers filter through his addled mind as he struggles to regain his balance. He feels himself flush as he tries to stand up properly, only to trip over Mihael’s fallen water bottle and land in a firm hold once more. 

“Clumsy as usual, I see,” Luka laughs, entirely too amused. “Or is it that you wanted a kiss? You can just ask, you know.” 

With a bit of luck, Rasmus has managed to push them both beneath a particularly offensive bundle of mistletoe, which appears to loom pompously over the pair.  _ Well,  _ Rasmus thinks,  _ that certainly will not do _ . 

  
It seems that Mihael is thinking the same thing, because in the next moment, a pair of warm, chapped lips cover his own. Under Mihael’s gentle attention, all the embarrassment and discomfort dissipates from Rasmus’ body, and he loses himself in the feeling of a warm body pressed against his. Rasmus is so comfortable that he almost forgets that they have a captive audience, but the loud wolf whistle from Luka pulls him out of his trance. 

“Damn boys, don’t stop on my account. It’s nice that we’re finally having some action in here.” Luka sounds self-satisfied, despite his spectator role. Mihael rolls his eyes in response, looking entirely annoyed at having been interrupted. 

“Don’t you have something better to do right now? Like pushing Marcin under the mistletoe or something?” 

Luka’s answering howls follow them, even as Mihael winks at Rasmus and pulls him through the hallway and into the ADC’s vacant room. 

**Rule No. 4: All is Fair in Love and War**

“This is definitely cheating,” Marcin moans, complaining about the unfair circumstances in which he found himself cornered by Luka under the blasted parasitic plant. “You’re such a cheater, Luka. How is this even allowed? I know we shouldn’t have let you make the rules.”

The chuckles that Marcin gets in response only fuel his exasperation, and he turns his full-fledged pout in Luka’s direction. “Why did you have to put it right above my bed? This is such an unfair place to put it, no?” 

Luka shrugs from his place in the doorway and takes a few steps further into the room, closing the door behind him. “The only rule was that we could only move each mistletoe one time. This one hasn’t been moved yet today.” 

He ignores Marcin’s garbled protests, humming some indistinguishable holiday tune as he gives an exaggerated turn to lock the door. He hears Marcin squeak behind him, then the telling creak of someone crawling into bed. When he turns around, he finds the jungler huddled under the blankets with a betrayed look on his face.

“Oh, come on.” Luka holds his hands up in surrender as Marcin scooches further and further back with each step he takes forward. The fear in Marcin’s eyes as his back touches the wall tears laughter from Luka’s throat. “What are you scared of?” 

“You will tickle me,” Marcin accuses, “You will tickle me, and then you will kiss me so that I stop paying attention so that you can tickle me again.” He looks briefly up at the mistletoe. “And you’re a cheater. Why is the mistletoe in my room?” 

Marcin looks like he wants to say more, but any further whining is interrupted by an eruption of giggles, stemming specifically from Luka’s fingers digging into his side. He squeals until the fingers let up, though any immediate response he has is swallowed by Luka’s mouth on his. They kiss languidly for a time, and Marcin lets himself be manhandled into a more sheltered position in the middle of the mattress rather than on the fringe. 

After some time, Luka decides to let Marcin rest and briefly extracts himself to turn off the lights. If not, the pink, wet shine of his lips will surely distract him again. 

“I love you, OK?”

“OK,” Marcin grumbles, reasonably cross.

“... You’re not going to say it back?” 

Marcin shrugs, feigning disinterest at the words. But in the tranquility of the aftermath, he curls closer into Luka’s side to rest his head on his chest and whispers a promise into the darkness.

**Rule No. 5: If Multiple People are Under the Mistletoe at Once, Only the First Kiss Will Count**

“This is a stupid rule,” Mihael comments as he watches Luka and Martin enter the third round of their heated argument. Rasmus, who is resting his head in the support’s lap, makes a muted sound of agreement. Between the aforementioned arguing pair, Marcin opens and closes his mouth like a fish, unable to get even a single word in. 

Rasmus observes them with a curious gaze, occasionally tilting his head this way and that so Mihael can sweep his nails over  _ just _ the right spots. He’s so at ease that he could fall asleep, were it not for the cacophony of noise that comes from just outside Mihael’s open door. 

Then, for a blessed moment, there is silence. Which, as it so happens, is when Marcin thrives the most. “I mean, you could just both kiss me right?”

Luka growls in frustration. “That’s not the point! Of course we can both kiss you, but the first one to do it will get the credit.”

“OK, I see how it is then. You only want to kiss me because of the points, right?” Marcin teases, pulling out the fake tears. Though, he lacks the braincells and foresight to see how this will end. “I want Wunder to kiss me first then, since he actually cares about me.” 

Rasmus winces as the loud voices start up again, Marcin’s and Luka’s playful quarrels echoing throughout the house. From above him, Mihael sighs and settles deeper into the fort of pillows and blankets that they’ve made. His ministrations stop for a second as he does so, long enough for Rasmus to feel annoyed and come up with a particularly mischievous plan to remedy the situation.

“Wait here,” he says to Mihael as he hops up, a manic gleam in his eyes. Mihael, used to seeing this expression when Rasmus is ready to run it down on the rift, stays put and cuddles up beneath the blankets to keep the space warm. For his benefit, Rasmus opens the door wider as he leaves so that he can have premier access to the mayhem about to transpire. 

In one swift motion, Rasmus invades the trio and drops a honeyed kiss on the apple of Luka’s cheek before doing the same to the curve of both Martin’s and Marcin’s necks. His cackles disrupt the stunned silence and he is gone in the next instant, rushing back into Mihael’s room and slamming the door shut behind him. 

He has about five seconds to snuggle up against Mihael before the door is violently pulled back open, the rest of the team standing ominously in the doorway. After just one more second, Mihael and Rasmus are descended upon, squashed beneath a pile of love and contentment. Rasmus smiles as his teammates smother him and Mihael in a flurry of kisses, feeling the remnants of adrenaline dissipate as his heart fills with boundless affection. In a small room, surrounded by his boyfriends on a smaller bed, he lets the uncertainties of the future fade away.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“... And those are all the rules! Easy, right?” Luka looks entirely too proud of himself, bathed in the golden glow of the decorative lights that litter the house. Fabian opens his mouth to retort, but takes the time instead to breathe in the illuminated expressions of each member of his team. In an instant, his heart swells with indescribable fondness for a group of boys who grew up too soon and all the fight leaves his body.

“Just five rules? You just want to run it down, don’t you?” 

“Don’t expose me Grabbz,” Luka laughs in response, and Fabian thinks that they at least deserve this much. For all their hard work, they can at least have the holiday to be boys, to love and be loved by each other. “We can come up with more as we go along if we need. Besides, this is mostly to handicap Rasmus. You know he smurfs in real life too; just look at that face.” 

At that, the room devolves back into cheerful disorder. As the team argues playfully with each other about who will int the most, Fabian turns his gaze to the half-decorated tree in the corner of the living room. The lights are only half on, and there are more ornaments on the floor than there are on the evergreen branches, but the crooked star on top shines as brightly as the ones in front of him. 

Fabian feels a smile slip through his disinterested facade. At some point, the cheerful banter dwindles to content silence. Luka claps his hands together. “Alright,” he announces, effervescent mirth sparkling in his eyes, “Let the holidays begin!”


End file.
